


Been a Bad, Bad Girl

by riverdaledreaming



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Exhibitionist Betty Cooper, F/M, Horny Betty Cooper, Light Smut, Money kink, Naked Female Clothed Male, Rich Bret Weston Wallis, Stripper AU, Stripper Betty Cooper, Strippers & Strip Clubs, hustlers inspired, if that's a thing, thigh riding, this is pretty tame for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverdaledreaming/pseuds/riverdaledreaming
Summary: Betty Cooper is a stripper at a high-end nightclub who gets off on stripping for crowds and on massive amounts of cash. Bret Weston Wallis, high rolling Wall Street banker, is a man of simple pleasures. One of those pleasures includes his kitten, Betty Cooper.Riverdale Bingo 2021 - Thigh Riding
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Bret Weston Wallis
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29
Collections: Riverdale Bingo 2021





	Been a Bad, Bad Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I can't lie, this one is heavily inspired by Hustlers and I'm not even sorry. The title comes from Criminal by Fiona Apple, the song JLo danced to in the movie and a perfect stripper song. This fic was also inspired by a pic that @kagszzy sent me last week and I just couldn't resist weaving it into a fic and the moodboard below! This one's for you, babe!
> 
> [tumble](https://riverdaledreaming.tumblr.com/) with me!

Betty would deny it if asked, but stripping had always made her so horny.

There was something about knowing that she had every man in the club’s attention when she took that stage that just made her feel wet as she spun around the pole. Call her an exhibitionist, but she just loved being watched. And of course the money that the job made her didn’t hurt either; she enjoyed a certain amount of comfort and stripping gave her what she wanted.

Tonight, Betty sat at her usual vanity in the dressing room, combing out her long, blonde locks as the other girls tittered around and prepared for the night. They had been informed by the hostess that a bunch of high-rolling VIPs were coming through tonight, some businessmen celebrating a big win at work. All the girls knew what that meant – drunken fools with deep pockets.

Betty pulled out her favorite lip gloss, applying it over her pouty lips. She smiled at herself in the mirror, eager for her set tonight. Betty knew the Wall Street-types loved seeing her on stage, a picture of contradiction. She had fluffed her blonde hair out so it would swing in lovely curls as she spun around the pole but had put on her most lethal-looking pair of black heels. She wore an innocent white frilly lingerie set but underneath were black pasties and a black G-string.

Betty fastened on her silvery diamond drop earrings, hoping that her favorite customer Bret would be coming in tonight. He always paid her well, sometimes gifting her pretty objects like these earrings.

“Kitten, you’re on in five,” the house mom Penelope called out, Betty nodding her understanding. She chose Kitten as her stage name to further lure men into her contradictory persona – first she charms them with her pretty smiles and then she sinks in her claws.

Betty stood to give herself one last once over, satisfied with her appearance. She strutted across the dressing room towards the backstage area, smiling as the girls shouted encouragements her way. Despite what the movies showed, her coworkers and her were actually friendly with each other.

Betty did some stretches as she waited for her set to start. She really wanted to impress the high rollers tonight, so she was pulling out all the stops.

The DJ announced her name, cuing Betty to the stage. She walked on to thunderous applause and blinding stage lights, a playful smirk on her pouty lips. She noticed a group of rowdy men in expensive suits standing at the edge of the stage, all eagerly watching Betty.

She winked at the group before taking her position on the pole. The men howled as she wrapped her legs around it, going right into a salacious routine. Her blonde hair swung wildly, her tiny white skirt flaring up and showing off what was underneath, what little there was anyway.

She pulled her body up high on the metal, running her hands over her curves as she bit her lip. She swung her legs out and gripped the pole with her arms, using her upper body strength alone so she could do a split in the air. She smirked as she watched the men throwing bills onto the stage for her, feeling her pussy tingle at the attention.

Betty stepped off the pole, strutting over to the excited group of men. She turned around and bent over, looking over her shoulder with a faux innocent expression. She bit her thumb playfully before tearing off the skirt and smiling at the ensuing whooping and shouting. She turned back to face them, tugging on her tiny bra, and looking at them with a questioning expression, as if asking them whether she should remove it.

The men howled for her, making Betty giggle as she tore the bra off too. She lithely lowered her body to the floor, crawling towards the men enticingly. Her loose breasts swayed with the movement, drawing all of their eyes as she approached them.

This close, Betty could see that sitting behind the raucous group and hidden in the shadows was the man she had been hoping to see. Her lips part as she watched him watch her, his arms folded across his broad chest. His blond hair was still impeccably styled, his fine Brioni suit still crisp.

Bret Weston Wallis watched as his kitten crawled across the stage, rolling onto her back and moaning as she rubbed her own tits in her hands. He stifled a groan as his pants began to feel tight, watching his favorite dancer laugh as his coworkers slipped bills into her G-string.

It didn’t matter what they did to her though, he knew that she enjoyed the private shows she gave him just as much as he did, if not more. When they were alone, she couldn’t hide the effect dancing had on her.

Betty’s song ended, the crowd booing as she collected their cash and her clothes and departed the stage. She blew a kiss in their direction as she left, laughing as they seemed to fight each other for her affections.

Betty dropped her winnings on her vanity, swapping her stage lingerie for a skimpy white halter dress. She reapplied her gloss before stepping back into the club, this time seeking out the man she knew would be waiting to take her to the private room upstairs.

Bret was waiting for her just next to the stage, looking her up and down as soon as she entered.

“My dear kitten, delectable as always,” he drawled, smirking as she took his proffered elbow and let him lead her towards the stairs.

Betty giggled, replying in her sultriest tone, “Well I thought you might be coming tonight, had to make it worth your while.”

Bret chuckled at that. “You always do, kitten.”

They arrived at the suite, Betty pulling aside the curtain and inviting her client inside. The Rose Lounge was usually used to entertain small groups, so it was equipped with a small stage and pole and several plush couches. Bret always requested this room, as he enjoyed watching Betty dance just for him.

As Bret took a seat on one of the couches, Betty strut over to the individual sound system and cued up a song. The soft, alluring voice of Fiona Apple filled the space, Betty throwing her head back as she began to sway to the music.

She ascended the small stage, shimmying off her dress as she watched Bret watch her. His intense gaze made her feel so wet, and his smirk confirmed that he knew it.

Betty began grinding against the pole, doing a much more sensual and slow routine for Bret than she had done downstairs. She was bending over and pulling on her barely there G-string when Bret called out to her from his spot on the couch, legs spread wide.

“Take them off, kitten. You know what I want to see,” he licked his lips as she turned around, cupping her perky tits in her hands as her eyes glinted.

Betty bit her lip, teasingly fingering the flimsy excuse for panties. Bret growled, making Betty laugh as she finally gave into what they both wanted, pulling them off and kicking them in his direction. They landed somewhere to his right, but Bret didn’t spare a glance at them.

He was too mesmerized by the creature before him. Whether she was heaven or hell sent was still debatable, but Bret couldn’t restrain his moan of pleasure when Betty gripped the pole behind her and lowered herself into a squat, spreading her legs wide and revealing her pussy to his gaze.

Bret reached down to palm his erection over his tailored suit pants, watching as Betty grabbed her own thigh and spread open her folds for him to see. She was soaked, her pussy twitching as if begging to be filled.

Filled by _him._

Bret beckoned Betty forward, patting his thigh in invitation. He knew the rules, he knew he couldn’t fuck her. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t get her off in other ways.

“Come closer kitten, come grind one out on my suit,” he smirked, knowing that she wouldn’t resist.

She purred as she descended the stage, stalking towards Bret. She gracefully slid into his lap, straddling one of his wide thighs. She balanced herself on his shoulders, his own wide hands coming up to hold her hips.

They always skirted the edge of what was appropriate in a stripper/client relationship, but they both just understood each other at a different level. Betty got off on stripping and on money, and Bret in turn got off on her pleasure.

Betty threw her head back, grinding her bare pussy down on Bret’s thigh. He helped guide her hips, pulling her back and forth and making her ride him. His cock twitched as he felt Betty’s wetness begin to soak through his pantleg and watched her bouncing breasts in his face.

“You enjoy rubbing yourself against my suit, kitten?” he growled, jerking her forward as she moaned.

Bret leaned forward to whisper in Betty’s ear, “Shall I tell you how much this suit costs? The suit you’re ruining with your cunt juices?”

Betty shivered, moaning as she ground on him harder, her clit pulsing against him.

Bret smirked, pulling her down harder against his thigh before whispering, “Six thousand dollars, but feeling your cunt against me like this is _priceless_.”

Betty moaned loudly as she came, more of her juices spilling out of her and dripping over the expensive pants. Knowing how much they cost made her so horny, knowing that he didn’t give a damn about the suit when he had her like this. He’d waste a thousand suits for her, which made her tremble as she rode him through her orgasm.

Bret swore, his cock pulsing as he felt Betty’s wetness seep through the fabric covering his thigh. Having her like this was absolutely worth the price of replacing his pants, and she knew it.

Betty panted as she came down, leaning against Bret’s shoulder as she recovered. His hands remained on her waist, squeezing the flesh there. He reveled in her bare tits pressed against him, her nipples poking through the tiny pasties covering them.

Once she had caught her breath, she pulled back to look down at his smirking face. She noticed the large bulge in his pants, but he didn’t make any mention of it. He knew her limits and knew she wouldn’t touch him, no matter how many other lines they crossed.

She kept her arms around his shoulders as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a huge roll of hundred-dollar bills. He passed her the roll casually, as if dropping this much cash was nothing.

And for him, it _was_ nothing.

Betty took the cash, stepping off his lap onto shaky legs. She easily recovered her panties and dress, replacing them on her body before turning to watch Bret.

“Same time next week, Bret?” Betty asked coquettishly, pouting as she watched him stand and adjust his hard-on in his suit.

“You know it, kitten,” he replied huskily before leaving the Rose Lounge and descending the back stairwell. He had been here enough times to know that walking through the club and out the front door with a raging erection and a wet stain on his pants was stupid, so he always exited out to the back alley.

Betty watched her favorite customer leave, satisfied in more ways than one. She just orgasmed and had a huge wad of cash in her hand.

Yeah, Betty fucking loved her job.


End file.
